


Nothing Here Is Singing (but nothing ever is)

by stardustgirl



Series: light at the beginning of the tunnel (tells me that i’m dreaming) [1]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: (Gorse and co are referenced a lot too), (I vibed with that song while writing this lol), Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blind Ezra Bridger, CIP, Congenital Insensitivity to Pain, Dark Hera Syndulla, Dissociation, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Enemies to Reluctant Parents, Ezra Bridger Has CIP, Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Hera Syndulla, Heavy Angst, Hera Syndulla Needs A Hug, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Imperial AU, Inquisitor Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus Needs a Hug, Medical Conditions, Parental Kanan Jarrus, Phoenix Nest Discord, Post-Order 66, Post-Star Wars: A New Dawn, Self-Sacrifice, Sensory Deprivation, Song: The Wires, Torture, Touch-Starved, Young Ezra Bridger, but it’s fine we’re fine, the kanera energy increases over the course of the fic, this entire fic is just a tragedy ooppp, this fic is so angsty im sorry but its okay bc ezra is still babey, you know what everyone’s gonna have ptsd at the end of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:02:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustgirl/pseuds/stardustgirl
Summary: Looking back, Gorse was a failure.  The Fifteenth Sister won't let Lothal become one, too.Kanan, however, has other plans.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus & Seventh Sister, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla, Seventh Sister & Hera Syndulla
Series: light at the beginning of the tunnel (tells me that i’m dreaming) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723111
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> y'all can blame the discord for this oop but like seriously they're great they helped me so much with this lol ALSO go read "Salvation's Cold Embrace" by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude it's another great inquisitor!hera au but it _hurts so muchhh_ (in a good way).
> 
> TW: Referenced Murder

Fifteen turns into the corridor, straightening the collar of her uniform as she arrives at the Grand Inquisitor’s office. She nods to the Purgetrooper stationed outside as they unlock the door and she enters. She’s still not entirely sure _why_ he wanted to meet with her, only that it’s important enough he summoned her while she had been in the middle of a sparring session with a droid. And her master isn’t the type to wait.

She stops just before his desk, kneeling. “Fifteen,” he says, and she rises.

“I’m sure you were wondering why you were called here,” he begins, and she nods. In answer, he presses a button on the side of a holoprojector, and a planet pops up. “This is Lothal. It’s an Outer Rim planet that, on the surface, is unimportant. _However…_ ” he trails off, pressing another button. The planet shrinks as what looks like grainy surveillance footage pops up beside it. There’s a human male, glancing around a corner before reaching a hand out. Fifteen isn’t sure what to expect as to why her master is showing her this. Maybe the man in the footage is a known insurgent, and their next target?

And then, toward the middle of the frame, a crate _moves._

It comes closer to the man, stopping just before the corner he’s glancing around. He shoots a glance over his shoulder before stepping close enough to open it, pulling a parcel from within before slamming the lid back on and retreating. The footage freezes.

“A Jedi?” Fifteen asks, the words slipping out without her realizing.

Her master, however, shrugs. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I wanted to send someone to confirm, and remove him if necessary. If it turns out he’s merely a common thief, then you may do as you wish.”

Fifteen nods, mulling his words over. A solo mission, only her second since Gorse.

 _Only your ninth_ ever _since getting captured._

She pushes the thought away, meeting the Pau’an’s gaze resolutely instead. “When do I leave?”

* * *

She’s been grateful for the opportunity to visit hundreds of planets since joining the Inquisitorius, since otherwise she would have only seen them through the lens of the Jedi, if at all. And most of them are breathtaking, with soaring mountains or deep canyons she would do anything to fly her ship through.

Lothal, however, has none of that.

The planet _does_ have mountains, and it _does_ have beauty—that is, if you can call a field of grass beautiful; Fifteen herself can’t find it in her to do so. Most of the people here, too, are relatively...orthodox. They don’t like Imperial rule, but they don’t speak out against it. At least, not anymore.

The information packet sent to her datapad had told her of a group of rebels who had been quelled a few years prior, the most notable among them a pair of broadcasters whose messages had managed to reach even the Mid Rim worlds and, surprisingly, the planet’s governor. _Ex-_ governor.

Now, however, the planet is boring. Plain. A mere name on a map.

The perfect place for a Jedi to lay low.

* * *

It doesn’t take long to catch him, either. She just instructs the local garrison to strategically lessen the number of guards for crates containing the same supplies the maybe-Jedi had stolen previously, and within two days, her net pulls tight. She arrives in time to see him shove the last ‘trooper away with what can only be the Force, and smiles to herself.

“You’re not supposed to make this so easy on us, you know,” she calls. He whips around, staring at her before turning to bolt. Fifteen sighs.

She throws him against the wall with the Force, hard enough he hits the ground disoriented. By the time he’s starting to push himself off the ground, her own reinforcements have arrived with binders. Two of them have the Jedi pinned to the ground as a third cuffs his wrists behind his back before yanking him to his feet, forcing him to turn toward Fifteen.

“Where are the others?”

“There are none,” he mutters, glaring at her. “Just me.”

_This is too easy._

“There are, and I can sense them,” she says, bluffing. The Jedi doesn’t noticeably budge from his previous lie.

“It’s just me. I’m the only one.”

She studies him for a moment before sighing. Fifteen nods to him. “Disarm him, then bring him aboard my ship. And tell the agent that I will be mentioning his _opportunity_ here in an unfavorable light. After all, he’s clearly done a poor job here if a _Jedi_ thinks he can just wander around and show off with his abilities.”

She watches as the ‘troopers take his blaster, and the knife in his boot, but something’s still there. She can hear it, a faint song in tandem with her own crystal’s keening screams.

_The cave seems to sing as Hera grabs hold of the crystal, pulling it down and smiling as she examines its smooth edges. “Together,” she whispers, repeating what her crèche master had always—_

Fifteen massages her temples in an effort to rid herself of the memory before pointing to a cylinder on the man’s belt and one clipped to the makeshift armor he wears on his back. “Take those off, too. I’ll be taking them with me.”

A stormtrooper hands her the cylinders and the song crescendoes. Growling, Fifteen stuffs them in a pocket. She’ll put them on her ship somewhere later, somewhere their song can’t leak out of to remind her that she’s a murderer, that she’s forsaken the Force, that she’s killed so many of her own—

Great. It’s affecting her _thoughts_ now, too. Sighing, she nods to the stormtroopers, and they lead the Jedi back to her ship.

It’s a small freighter, one great for disguising it as a civilian ship when her missions require it. It has a decent cargo bay, too, and multiple cabins. One of the latter is where she has the ‘troopers bring the Jedi to, sealing the vent to the ceiling so he can’t get it off and escape that way before locking the cabin door.

When the ‘troopers exit the ship and she’s left to pilot, she finds herself wondering why she _did_ capture him. She normally just executes any Jedi she finds. It’s easier, less logistics to deal with. More guilt, but that’s something she’s well adapted to balancing by now.

Still….

She punches Nur into the navicomputer and slumps back in the captain’s seat once they reach hyperspace. She should take the next few days to figure out her reason for bringing the Jedi back.

_To spite Seven, maybe?_

That’s as good an explanation as any so she keeps it, shifting to scoot back in the chair more when something digs into her thigh. She empties her pocket to find the cylinders.

They’re unassuming when considered separately. One is a longer cylinder with a small cluster of buttons while the other is an even shorter tube paired with a flat disc that makes up most of its size. The emitter, probably. Keeping one’s lightsaber separate is the smartest thing she’s seen any of the previous Jedi do; it’s a lot easier to hide.

_I wonder…._

Cautiously, she clicks the two pieces together, rotating them until they click again. She presses the ignition button and a long blade slides out, the blue tint it gives off reflecting off of the rest of the cockpit.

Blue, then. Like hers is— _had been._

Satisfied, she sheathes his blade and heads to her own cabin, sliding the ‘saber into the same drawer in which her own shattered crystal resides. The crystal releases a long, warbling note, but thankfully shutting the drawer blocks it out. She doesn’t need to dwell on the past any more today.

She returns to the cockpit, still trying to puzzle out what _else_ had made her keep the Jedi alive. Irritating Seven is always motivation enough, but she still feels like there’s more to it than that. And not just his ingenuity with his lightsaber, either. No. There’s something else, something she’s not picking up on.

And then it hits her.

He’d been too _easy_ to bring in. He’d made the whole thing out to be an inconvenience, albeit a major one, but had seemed almost _relieved_ all the same.

_Maybe Lothal isn’t as good a place for Jedi as I thought._

Acting on a hunch, she pulls up her info packet again and scans through it. There. The supplies he’d been stealing. All of it is medical.

It just doesn’t make _sense,_ though. She hadn’t noticed any outright injuries when he’d been captured, and though he _could_ be reselling it all on the black market, somehow that doesn’t strike her as the answer, either. Fifteen sighs, closing her datapad again.

Either way, she’ll find out soon enough.

* * *

They reach Nur after a few days at lightspeed and she goes to the Jedi’s cabin, mildly surprised to see him trying to _meditate._ She’s only seen him twice since leaving Lothal, and both times he was pacing.

“We’re here,” she says curtly. He cracks an eye open and rises, not an easy feat with his hands cuffed behind him.

“If you try _anything,_ you’ll be dead before you see the light of day. Am I clear?”

“As crystal.” She sighs, reaching a hand back to double check her ‘saber’s still in place on her back before checking that his own is also clipped to her belt. Good. She’s still in control.

When she marches the Jedi down the ramp of her ship and into the hangar, she’s not in the mood to deal with Seven.

Unfortunately, Seven is in the mood to deal with _her._

“And who’s this?” she asks with faux sweetness, moving to take the Jedi by the chin. The man glowers at her even as Fifteen quickly slots herself between them as a barrier.

“No one who concerns you,” she snaps. “He’s _mine,_ and _I’m_ taking him straight to our master.”

Seven snorts. “And then what? You think he’ll let you keep him?”

“As I said, it’s none of your concern.” Fifteen leads him toward her master’s office, making sure she’s constantly aware of any fluctuations in the Jedi’s emotions. There’s an overall sense of dread emanating from him, but that’s hardly out of the ordinary for the situation. He knows who she is. He knows why he’s here.

He knows what’s going to happen to him.

The Purgetrooper usually guarding the door is gone, likely because of her...acquisition. She lets herself and the Jedi in with a wave of her hand and stops just shy of her master’s desk, placing the Jedi’s full lightsaber on it before kneeling. A well-placed elbow in the Jedi’s side, and he does the same.

“Is this the Jedi?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Then why bring him here?”

He already _knows_ why she brought him here, of course. Her practiced lie is that the man seems like he would be a good Inquisitor candidate.

As for the truth, however...she’s not entirely sure of that herself.

“He seems like he’d be a good candidate for training.”

The Grand Inquisitor makes a noncommittal noise before moving around his desk to see the Jedi up close. The man stiffens, and Fifteen feels a faint flare of anger from him.

“Fifteenth Sister, do you recall a mission you once made to Gorse only three years ago?”

She hesitates at the seemingly unrelated question before nodding. “Yes.”

“Remind me what the purpose of that mission was?”

“It was to...to investigate Count Vidian’s dealings, Master.”

“Precisely.” He falls silent again and a soft gasp from the Jedi is enough to inform her that he’s examining the man’s shields. “And do you remember who you worked with while undercover on that mission?”

“I primarily worked with...with a freighter pilot. Among others.”

“Good.”

The Jedi exhales suddenly, collapsing onto hands and knees as he gasps like a drowning man. “Kriff...kriff you,” he mutters. The Grand Inquisitor, however, takes no notice.

“The Jedi you have...apprehended has an apparent history on Gorse. A history containing _you._ ”

She blinks in surprise. “There weren’t any Jedi on Gorse—” she starts, only to be cut off by a raised hand.

“And he believed there were no _Inquisitors_ on Gorse, either.”

Her mind screeches to a halt for a moment as the pieces begin to click into place. Kanan’s stubbornness...the way the Jedi had seemed familiar...the way Kanan had always tried to lay low…. _Oh._

“I- I apologize for not recognizing him for what he was earlier, Master,” she says quickly. Her master sighs.

“Clearly, you have a _weak spot_ for him. Not reporting his presence the first time, and now, daring to bring him back here _alive._ No matter. You will return to your original duties until I have another assignment for you. _He_ will stay under the jurisdiction of the Seventh Sister. She has already proven herself to be more successful than you by _far._ ”

Swallowing hard, Fifteen nods. “Of course, Master. I won’t make this mistake again.” The man’s eyes flash.

“I would hope you do not, or there will be more _serious_ consequences next time. Dismissed.” She nods, rising and exiting without another word.

She can feel the gaze of both her master and Kanan on her as she leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for "Mistaken for Related" for Found Family Bingo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Seven Being A Creep (for once not to ezra but), Electroshock Torture, Mind Invasion (via the Force), Asphyxiation (via the Force), Blood, Needles, Non-consensual Drugging of a Child, Restraint, Suicidal Ideations in the Interest of Protecting Someone (not acted upon)

The most surprising thing about his having met up with Ezra a year prior is that even though _Kanan’s_ the one currently being prepped for interrogation, his first worry is for Ezra.

Kanan knows that that would not normally be his first priority, if it even crossed his mind. He hasn’t cared about another person since—well, since Hera. And Gorse was a long time ago.

Still, the fact that the boy—he can’t quite bring himself to call him his Padawan, not even now—is on his mind now is significant.

And bad.

Very, very bad.

It’s bad not _because_ he’s worried about the kid, but rather because they’re not killing him yet. And yes, Kanan _would_ prefer to stay alive in an ideal situation, but if he’s dead, then they can’t find out about Ezra. At least, not from him.

The door slides open and a figure enters, silhouetted by the threshold. As the door slides shut, however, he recognizes her as the one who had tried to pull him away from his captor upon his arrival. The Pau’an had said he’d be put in the charge of the Seventh Sister. Is this…?

“Kanan Jarrus?” she asks, tone still as saccharine as it had been in the hangar.

He doesn’t reply. That’s his goal right now, _has been_ his goal for the last seventy-two hours or so. Don’t say more than you need. Don’t give them any potential hints as to the fact of Ezra’s existence.

And, for once, it’d worked.

Seven steps closer, tapping the side of her helmet so the face plates retract as she cocks her head. She crosses her arms, frowning in thought. “A man like you,” she begins, enunciating each word with a tap of her finger against her arm, “shouldn’t be on the run from the Empire.”

He snorts. “Considering you guys kind of made me illegal, I’m not sure what you would prefer me to do.”

“Mm, I can think of a few things.” She smiles, and the sight unnerves him. Sure, he’s gone for many people that most “upright” citizens of the Empire would probably deem questionable at the least, problematic at the most, before. But he doesn’t really find the idea of a Jedi killer attractive. Especially not when he’s strapped to an interrogation table and the Force is giving him a multitude of warning bells.

“I think I’m good without any suggestions, thanks.” Seven laughs, the sound as unsettling as her smile, and begins circling him like a shark.

“Now, before we begin, is there anything you would like to get off your chest in the interests of shortening your...questioning period?” She stops right behind his right shoulder, and he can see her if he strains back far enough.

“Not really, no.”

“Unfortunate.” She goes quiet, and he’s about to try and break the uneasy silence again when a series of shocks hits him before he can.

* * *

He’s not sure how long she’s been torturing him when the shocks finally stop for longer than a few seconds. He shudders in the restraints, panting as he winces from the residual pain.

“Do you understand what you’re up against now, Jedi?” she asks softly.

Weak, Kanan nods.

“Good.” She smiles, a chill running down his spine. She reaches a gloved hand toward him, her fingertips just a hair’s breadth away from his forehead, and his brow furrows in confusion.

And then he feels it. Feels _her._

She’s rummaging around in his mind, touch just firm enough he can feel it, but too light to tell _where._ He tries to strengthen his shields around his memories of the kid, but whenever he does, that’s where she strikes. Still, he’s somewhat successful at keeping her out of his mind. And then—

“ _No,_ ” he breathes.

“Ah, _there_ we are,” she murmurs, smiling. “You’re young to be a father.”

“He’s not- not my son- leave my memories _alone—_ ”

She simply digs deeper into his mind at that, and as he _shoves_ her out of his mind, he _screams._

* * *

Fifteen blinks in surprise as she opens the cell door, entering cautiously. Her senses go on high alert as she recognizes both Seven and the Grand Inquisitor beside a barely-conscious Kanan.

“Master?” she greets hesitantly. He nods before cutting straight to the chase.

“The Jedi has shielding. Shielding that apparently is _too strong_ for her.” He nods to Seven, and though the woman’s face plates are up, Fifteen can feel her sneer through them. “She was rebuffed after getting just a mere _glimpse_ of their contents, and has been unsuccessful in making further progress since. You, however, have quite the reputation for getting through shields without utterly decimating them.” Fifteen nods slowly. She’s well aware of her reputation; she’s earned it through hours of work on similar victims. “I want you to get through his.”

Fifteen nods again, turning to the Jedi. Kanan is limp in his restraints, breathing ragged and uneven. None of this surprises her however; Seven isn’t known for being...delicate with her victims. Fifteen reaches out a hand, closes her eyes, and _pulls_ at the Force.

His shields rebuff her, of course, and she can feel Seven’s failed attempts to get through them in the form of deep gouges in his mind. She sidesteps those, moving instead to the unmarred portions. That’s where she starts.

She’s halfway through when she feels him stirring, trying to strengthen his grip on consciousness. Frowning, Fifteen pushes back until he’s at the brink again before she resumes her work. It’s easier if he’s stuck in the inbetween.

She gets through the biggest shield, then, and he gasps as he finally feels her.

“No... _no,_ don’t- don’t—”

She doesn’t bother pushing back against him this time, instead skimming what was so important to keep hidden.

A boy.

Dark hair, light but unfocused eyes, cowering against a dumpster as a hand reaches out, saying, “It’s okay, I won’t—”

“Get _out,_ ” he growls, and she’s thrust from his mind without prelude.

Fifteen blinks, looking down at him. “Who was that?” she asks.

He doesn’t answer. Kanan just glares at the floor, still struggling to keep his head upright. Sighing inwardly, Fifteen returns to his shields.

It’s easier to get inside them now, and she does, searching for anything else reminiscent of the boy. She sees him a lot, now that she’s looking for him. Sees Kanan teaching him how to meditate, to connect with other beings, to shield himself.

Sees him...nearly walking into the path of a transport? _What—_

“Leave him alone.”

She blinks again at the intrusion that forced her from his mind. Kanan’s gaze is finally fixed on her and it’s murderous, eyes bloodshot. “Tell me who the boy is.”

“ _No._ ”

“You found something substantial?” her master asks, taking a step closer. She nods. “What?”

“There’s...a boy,” she begins, watching Kanan’s reactions carefully. “I think he’s still on Lothal. He’s...significant to him, somehow. I think he has the Force.”

The Pau’an smiles, the sight vaguely unsettling even to her. “Retrieve him,” he orders, gaze on Kanan. “Bring him here.”

“No, don’t, not- not him not him don’t—”

The Grand Inquisitor cuts off the Jedi’s ragged pleas with a raised hand, tightening the air around his throat with the Force for a moment.

“When should I leave?”

He smiles, releasing his hold on Kanan and leaving him gasping for breath. “Now.”

* * *

She arrives on Lothal again after a few days’ worth of travel, but this time she doesn’t inform the local garrison of her arrival. Fifteen’s brought her own pair of stormtroopers with her this time, ones that she _knows_ won’t be incompetent.

Still, it takes her a few days to find the boy. There’s not a trap she can lay for him this time, she doesn’t know enough about him, so she takes to wandering the streets herself and instructing her ‘troopers to keep an eye on the small city’s spaceport so he can’t flee that way. Even doing that, however, she finds him on her fifth day, and only because she senses a faint light in the Force probing at the edge of her signature. Fifteen whirls and begins the search.

She radios for her ‘troopers on the way, and manages to corner him in an alley, one not too different from the one she saw him hiding in in the Jedi’s buried memories. He’s at the far wall of the alley, feeling along it as if still in denial he’s been cornered before she draws within a few feet of him, putting a hand on her ‘saber hilt and clearing her throat. He spins around, panting.

She saw the boy in the Jedi’s mind, of course, but somehow he seems even _smaller_ now.

He glares at her, teeth bared as he brandishes a jagged shard of transparisteel. “Put your weapon down!” he orders, voice surprisingly firm for how young he is. “And tell me– tell me where Kanan is! I know you did something with him!”

“I’m bringing you to see him,” she says slowly, releasing her ‘saber and bringing her hands up to show she’s unarmed. If necessary, she can still call her lightsaber to her hand in mere seconds.

“I don’t believe you!”

“Please do, or we can do this in a more painful way,” she says, trying to keep her voice calm. She’s done a lot of things, things that the younger her who grew up in the Temple would’ve been ashamed of, without remorse, but hurting a literal _child…._

The boy, however, doesn’t seem to have any such moral restrictions. He lunges at her, trying to slash her arm with the piece of transparisteel. She simply steps backward, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that all you can do?”

Growling, the boy lunges again, though he misses her by nearly a foot and stumbles toward the wall instead. Fifteen’s brow shoots up further. “Come peacefully, and—”

The kid pushes off the wall and lunges a third time, this attempt finally hitting home. He slashes the transparisteel through her sleeve, cut going deep enough to break the skin. Fifteen sighs, biting her lip to keep back the pain. She has no need to draw on it now. She’s done toying with him.

She thrusts a hand out, freezing him in his tracks. The boy whimpers, hand frozen with light from the distant sun glinting off of his makeshift weapon. “Let me _go!_ ”

She doesn’t bother answering him as she feels the cut on her arm begin to bleed. Instead, she turns to her ‘troopers. “Cuff him.”

“No, don’t!” the kid yells, fighting against her hold on him. He keeps yelling as the stormtroopers approach, gaze shifting to both them and the alley around them so wildly Fifteen can hardly track it. She doesn’t budge until he’s successfully cuffed, and then she releases him, allowing one of the stormtroopers to take his makeshift weapon from him and toss it to the ground.

The boy continues yelling as they bring him to her ship. She ignores him, though something nags at her. Something about Kanan’s memories of him combined with how he had tried to fight her. Fifteen shakes the thought away as they secure the boy in the same cabin his master had been secured in only two weeks prior. She begins the starting sequence for the freighter, pushing all thoughts of the boy away as the ship lifts off slowly. She can deal with him when they get back to Nur.

* * *

When they drop out of hyperspace a few days later, Fifteen exits her cabin and starts for the cockpit, only to hesitate in front of the cabin the boy is locked inside of. Shaking her head, she continues on her way.

As she waits for confirmation to land, the sounds of a struggle reach her. Frowning in thought, Fifteen rises and heads to the door. As it slides open, she realizes the source of the noise.

Her stormtroopers are in the boy’s cabin and, as she draws closer, she can see that one is attempting to hold him still while another jabs a hyposyringe in his neck. A swell of anger fills her chest as she storms in, lekku jabbing toward her back.

“What—”

“The Seventh Sister gave us orders,” the one with the hypo says as he steps back, the boy’s struggles weakening now that the drug is in his system.

“ _I_ gave you _explicit_ orders not to dr—”

“She overrode them.”

Fifteen has to resist the urge to cut him down right there. Swallowing back her fury, she instead says stiffly, “I will be speaking with her about this.”

An alert chimes from the cockpit and she whirls and marches out, dropping into the pilot’s seat and guiding the ship into the hangar.

Fifteen rips her helmet off the moment they land, sighing in frustration as she stalks out and down the loading ramp toward the other Inquisitor standing at the far end of the hangar. The Seventh Sister smiles, folding her arms and cocking her head. Fifteen can’t help as her lekku twitch, curling towards her back so tightly she’s not sure if they’ll uncurl after.

“Something wrong?” Seven asks innocently.

“ _My_ ‘troopers are claiming that _you_ overrode _my_ orders,” she growls. “ _Why?_ ”

“We needed to capture the apprentice, and it seems we did.” She nods toward the freighter; Fifteen glances over her shoulder to see her ‘troopers leading the boy off. He’s still subdued, unfocused gaze trying to blink himself out of the drugged haze they put him in, and the tips of Fifteen’s lekku curl even tighter.

“No. There was no _we_ about it. This was _my_ mission, _not_ yours. You had no right to interfere!”

Seven shrugs. “Our master put _me_ in charge of the Jedi due to your incompetence in recognizing one even when he’s in front of your face, and he said I was to use anything I had available as leverage, so….”

“And he said _I_ was the one who would be capturing the boy!”

“Oops. My mistake.”

Fifteen’s fury surges, and she doesn’t try to push it back this time. “The boy was _my_ assignment,” she says, voice low. “And the Jedi is _yours._ Try to remember that, or I might forget to keep it a secret that you don’t always kill the Jedi you find the very minute you find them.”

“At least _I_ didn’t drag one back here.”

“And _I’m_ not some—”

A wave of muted anger hits them at the same time and they step apart and kneel as one. “Master,” Fifteen whispers.

The Pau’an strides toward them, gaze dark. “Bickering again, I see,” he remarks, voice cold.

Seven speaks up first. “She was just—”

He silences her with a raised hand. “Fifteenth Sister, my office. Alone. The ‘troopers will see to the child.” She nods, rising as he turns to Seven. “And you. Return to the Jedi. Last I checked, you hadn’t made much progress.”

Seven’s barely suppressed spite at the jab spreads across the three of them but she nods, standing and leaving for the detention block without more argument. The Pau’an turns, heading for the hangar exit, and Fifteen follows in his wake.

They reach his office and the moment he reaches his desk, the door shutting behind her, he turns back to face her. “Report.”

“The boy managed to stay hidden for a while. I felt him trying to feel for my signature, though, and we apprehended him soon after.”

“Good. Did he resist?”

“He tried. No weapon, but he attempted to use a shard of transparisteel it seems he picked up off the ground.” The Grand Inquisitor’s gaze narrows fractionally as he nods to the bandage showing through her sleeve.

“He was successful, I see.”

“Only briefly, Master,” she admits, gaze dropping. “He fought back when my ‘troopers went to drug him, too; the Seventh Sister overrode my orders not to do so. I wanted him as coherent as possible upon his arrival.”

“Hm. He can sit for a day. Dismissed.” She nods, exiting and trying not to think of the fact that a child’s life now hangs in the hands of her master. It’s not the first time this has happened, of course, though for some reason this time feels...different.

Swallowing hard, Fifteen allows the door to slide shut behind her and continues on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Seven Being A Creep, Electroshock Torture, Blood, Past Injury, Restraint, Sensory Overload, Accidental Self-harm (as a failed grounding attempt), Implied Threat of Child Death

The darkness is everywhere.

It presses in on all sides, whispering and creaking like an old house, murmuring his name _Ezra Ezra Ezra_ like a cursed chant that he can’t shake, cobwebs and spiders and _rot_ seeping into the marrow of his bones until Ezra’s clawing at his own skin trying to escape its cries.

When he finally hears a sound in the eternal dark, it comes as a breeze on one of Lothal’s Flat Days, bringing sweet relief.

That is, until he hears the telltale _hiss-snap_ of a lightsaber igniting and sees a hint of light in a corner of his vision.

“Ka– Kanan?”

There’s a soft breath, almost like a laugh. And then the voice of the woman who found him, the one with the stormtroopers, comes from the dark.

“I’m not Kanan.”

It’s too quiet. The buzzing of the lightsaber is the only sensation to ground him; its light isn’t enough to tell his surroundings by. He hates this.

“Where is he?” he asks when the unknowing becomes too much.

“Kanan?”

He nods, knowing the Imp—that’s what she is, right? just one specialized in handling people with the Force, probably—can see the gesture.

“He’s here. You can see him, if you behave.”

He would laugh if the situation wasn’t so dire. He couldn’t see Kanan even if they were back on Lothal.

At least, he _thinks_ he’s not on Lothal. He’s never been on a ship before, but the vibrations coming from the ground and all around him for the last few days felt like nothing he’s felt before. It was definitely somewhere inside; the light was somehow different from outside. And Lothal’s never exuded this much darkness before.

“Why haven’t you killed us yet?”

The surprise in the woman’s voice is evident. “What...do you mean?”

“You know. You’re an Imp. Kanan said– he said that the Empire kills people like us. But you...you can use it, too.”

“The Force?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“The Empire has uses for some of us,” she says, speaking slowly as if choosing her words carefully. “If you behave...we could have use for you, too.”

He doubts that. They won’t have a use for a reckless child who can’t see. Still, though, maybe there’s hope for Kanan. “What about Kanan?”

“If he behaves, we might have use for him, too.” Ezra nods, a sliver of relief flooding through him.

After a moment, the buzzing of the lightsaber accompanied by its light comes closer, and Ezra realizes it’s close enough now that it’s just barely touching him. Belatedly, he tries to back up.

“Can’t you feel that?”

He hesitates before deciding to err on the side of keeping as much about himself secret as he can. “Yeah. I’ve just...felt it before. Doesn’t bother me as much.”

If he didn’t know the woman was an Imp, he would swear her next words carry a tinge of _worry._ “Kanan did that to you? He...burned you?”

“Uh...no. No. Kanan never– he didn’t hurt me. No.”

 _Kriff_ he wishes he could feel the Force more than the overwhelming sense of despair now more than ever. He has no way to gauge her reactions except by hearing thanks to how dim the light is in here, and he hates it.

“Can you tell me how you met Kanan?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He panics, searching for an answer. “I, uh...I don’t want to.” Kanan had said that if the Empire ever captured one of them, and _didn’t_ kill them right off the bat, avoid telling them as much as he could, for as long as he could. And already, Ezra knows he’s failed.

The Imp sighs. “If you cooperate with us, it’ll be a lot easier for you.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m okay.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

“No.”

“ _Anything?_ ”

“I don’t feel like it.”

The woman sighs in frustration. “Listen, it would be a lot easier on all of us if you would just answer our questions. We have better things to do than interrogate you. But if you’re _not_ going to, then we have appropriate measures to deal with that, too.” Ezra shudders at that, despite knowing that nothing she—or any of them—can do would have any impact on him anyway. “So just answer my questions, and maybe I’ll look into letting you see Kanan, okay?”

He shrugs. “And what if I don’t _want_ to answer your questions?”

The lightsaber’s buzzing gets louder again as its light gets closer and he tries to move away from it. The woman doesn’t comment this time, thankfully.

“If you want to see Kanan again, then you _will._ ” Her voice is firm, and after a moment he can hear the ‘saber being sheathed as its light disappears. “I’ll leave you to think on that for a while.” Her steps retreat, and he hears a door close. He’s alone again.

Alone, except for the whispers that creep under his skin and into his mind until he finds himself curling up and sobbing.

* * *

“We have your boy,” Seven says, tone mild. “He’ll be broken in soon enough, Turned just as you will be—“

“ _No!_ ” Kanan yells, trying to lunge at her despite his restraints. She only laughs.

“Just tell us where the others are, where your little _group_ is hiding, and—“

“‘Group?’ There’s no group. There’s...there’s no one else. Just the kid and I,” he interrupts, voice lowering as he realizes that he’s the only one who can help Ezra. And he can’t even help himself.

“Oh?”

“ _Please._ Let him go. Please. He– he’s of no use to you, just—”

Seven laughs at that, shaking her head and pushing off the wall she’s been leaning against across the cell from him. “You know that we wouldn’t just _let him go._ We can’t have loose ends just wandering around.”

“Please. I _promise_ he’s not worth training. And there’s– there’s no one else. He’s just– just an ordinary kid, so just let—”

“Mm, let me think about it. How about...no.”

Kanan swallows hard, ready to open his mouth for another round of pleas on Ezra’s behalf when Seven flicks her finger and a round of shocks hits him. He cries out, slumping forward in the restraints when they end just as soon. The moment he has his breath back, he raises his head again.

“ _Please._ He’s just a kid, please just—”

Seven _tsk_ s, shaking her head as she closes the distance between them in a matter of steps. “But he’s _your_ kid,” she points out, removing her ‘saber from her back and igniting one of the blades. She raises it until it’s below his chin, slowly forcing his head up. “And that means that he’s worth something to you, doesn’t it, dear?”

“Just let him go. _Please._ Don’t– don’t hurt him.”

Seven smiles, the sight making him uneasy. “I’ll consider it. But for now, I think you need to be worrying about _yourself._ ”

“N– no, not until– not until I know the kid’s safe—”

“And _I’m_ telling you that there’s no way to guarantee that. Now, why don’t you get around to telling me where the others are?”

“I _told_ you, there– there _aren’t_ any others—”

A shock hits him without warning and Kanan finds his protests forgotten as he _screams._

* * *

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of confusion for Fifteen, and they don’t seem to be getting any better.

The Grand Inquisitor assigned the boy to her only a few days after his arrival, and she’s been busy since, trying to figure out how to either interrogate or turn him—or, perhaps if she’s lucky, both.

The only issue with that assignment is that the boy doesn’t appear to be fully aware of what’s going on around him.

The first day she’d approached him, she’d ignited her lightsaber as more a precautionary measure than anything—not because she genuinely was expecting him to attack, but just in case, and also to gauge his reaction. The oddest part, however, was that he had touched the lightsaber and seemed to be...unaffected. Like he didn’t even _notice,_ at least not for a minute or two.

Which would have been strange on its own, but was made stranger still by the fact that the kid hadn’t appeared to even _feel_ the second-degree burn on his lower jaw.

She hadn’t meant to burn him, if she allowed herself to be honest. She had been trying to just test his overall reaction to her, see how much of it was bravado and how much wasn’t. And apparently, not much of it was...either.

Fifteen waits for his cell door to slide open only to pause before entering. The boy is curled up on the floor, whimpering softly. Clearing her throat, she finally enters and he sits up abruptly, rubbing his eye and looking in her general direction. _Odd. He doesn’t seem to be trying to meet my eye._

Maybe he just doesn’t _like_ eye contact. She’s gotten the general impression from him that he’s a child of the street, former or current despite Kanan’s intervention. Maybe for him, eye contact represents getting caught stealing, so he avoids it.

She walks down the stairs, allowing the cell door to close behind her. “How’s your burn?” she asks without prelude.

He blinks, brows furrowing together in confusion. “Burn?” he echoes.

“Yes. On your jaw, from the lightsaber yesterday.” His eyes widen.

“You– it touch– it touched me?”

 _Why is he acting like this? Of_ course _it touched him; he has a blister from it!_

“Yes,” Fifteen says slowly, watching him carefully. “I...didn’t mean to, but you didn’t move away fast enough.” _Don’t apologize. You’re an_ Inquisitor, _serving the Empire. If anything,_ he _should be apologizing to_ you.

“I...oh. Ye- yeah. It...it’s okay.”

There’s an awkward silence before she clears her throat. “I need to clean it, or it’ll get infected. And that would be...it would be a waste of resources.”

He nods jerkily before adding, “I’m not giving you any information in exchange though.”

She shrugs, moving toward him and crouching. She pulls a bacta patch from her pocket, carefully unpackaging it and taping it to the boy’s jaw. If she does anything more, she’ll be seen as too caring. And she’s already failed her master. No need to fail again, not if she can help it at least.

“How old are you?” she asks quietly, folding the packaging up and tucking it back into her pocket until she can dispose of it later. The kid stiffens, and he doesn’t answer. Sighing, Fifteen rises. Great. “Telling me your age isn’t spilling some big secret about you, you know.” He’s still silent, and finally Fifteen just throws her hands up. “Fine. If you want to be silent, do that. Just keep in mind it won’t last long.”

The kid only shrugs, shifting to push himself to his feet. She eyes him warily, hand drifting to her ‘saber hilt until she catches sight of his hands.

There’s dried blood all over them, both in the creases of his palms and in what looks like half-healed lacerations. Her brows furrow as she tries to think of what could have caused the injuries; they look fairly recent. And then it hits her.

The transparisteel shard he’d brandished like a blaster.

“Your hands.”

He doesn’t respond and she sighs silently again, taking a step closer.

“Can I see them? There’s….They’re cut all over.”

He hesitates before lifting them toward her, and she can see the bruises left by his binders, too. Sighing for the third time, Fifteen pulls out a couple more bacta patches and carefully lays them over his hands before wrapping a length of cohesive bandage around both of them, tucking the ends underneath the already-wrapped portions. The boy doesn’t flinch as she does so, though his gaze is fixed on the bandages. When she finishes, Fifteen frowns in thought, releasing his hands.

“Look at me.” He does so, and his gaze is just as unfocused as it was before. She moves a finger in front of his eyes, waiting for him to track it visually.

Only, there’s an issue.

He doesn’t.

“Kid? If you answer this question, I’ll leave you alone, okay?” He doesn’t respond but she pushes forward regardless. “Are you blind?”

There’s a pause before the kid turns, shoving his shoulder into her roughly before she can realize what’s happening. Her ‘saber’s in her hand and ignited instantly and the boy freezes at the noise, breathing hard.

“Answer me.”

He doesn’t, only edging closer to her. She moves the lightsaber, making sure its _whoosh_ is particularly loud, and he stops.

“I’ll leave you alone after you answer, I promise.” Swallowing, the boy finally shrugs.

“What does it matter if I am?”

“Because I need to know.”

“Fine. I am. Happy?”

She hesitates, finally declining to answer him. Fifteen keeps her ‘saber ignited as she backs up the steps and out of the boy’s cell, and she doesn’t sheathe it until the door to his cell slides shut. She finds herself lost in thought as she returns her ‘saber to its usual place on her back, and so doesn’t hear the steps from behind her.

“Looks like someone was a bit feisty today, hm?”

She releases the hilt and whirls at Seven’s voice. “What?”

Seven nods to her ‘saber. “The boy. He put up trouble, I’m guessing?” The Mirialan smiles.

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Mm, I don’t know about that. Considering your _track record,_ if he gives you any more trouble I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets reassigned to _me._ ”

“He won’t be.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Seven’s smile widens for a moment before she turns, sauntering off down the hall, and Fifteen feels her lekku start to curl as she turns and heads in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes, I know being blind doesn't mean you don't feel stuff; that part will be explained later.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied Threat of Torture to a Child, Seven Being Creepy, Referenced Mind Invasion (via the Force), Referenced Parent Death, Victim Self-blaming, Implied/Referenced Child Abandonment, Xenophobia, Referenced Murder

She knows the kid’s name by the fourth time she goes to see him. Ezra. Sure, Seven had pulled it from the mind of an unwilling Kanan, but it was true, and so there was no reason for her _not_ to use it.

After all, their master _had_ said to use any resources she had available to break the boy. So that’s what Fifteen will do.

Ezra is quiet for a long moment after she calls him that the first time. Finally, he replies, “Is Kanan alive?”

She responds with a nod before remembering the boy’s confession several days before. “Yes.”

Ezra is quiet again, and she finds herself almost preparing to leave when he asks, “Can...does he know I’m okay?”

She hesitates before going up the steps and to the door of the cell. “No,” she finally says before leaving. She’s not sure if she can live with herself if she has to see his reaction to the news.

Fifteen tries to keep her distance from the boy for the next few days after that. After all, if he’s blind and he doesn’t take to the training immediately, he’ll be a waste of resources in their mind— _her_ mind. Fifteen would view him as such, too. She’s an Inquisitor. She always _will be_ an Inquisitor, and she always _has been_ an Inquisitor. She has no other option.

 _Hera huddles behind the abandoned crates, holding her knees to her chest as tears stream down her face. Her lightsaber is hidden under the cloak she stole—_ borrowed, just borrowed, she’ll repay the man sleeping on the street who let her borrow it later— _and its weight presses against her, reminding her of who—of_ what— _she is._

_And that she has no place in this world any longer._

Fifteen grits her teeth at the memory, eyes flashing. She continues to the boy’s cell, ignoring the faint stirring in her chest at the thought of her past.

_Ignore it._

She reaches his cell, hesitating. She’s furious right now, though not with him. With _herself,_ believe it or not. And if the Inquisitorius has taught her anything, it’s that she shouldn’t repress her anger. She should let it out, channel it, lash out against anything—any _one—_ nearby.

And the boy is very close.

Decision made, Fifteen turns. She starts down the corridor, trying to reason with herself.

 _It’s not that you don’t want to_ hurt _him, it’s just that you don’t want to_ damage _him. You need him in somewhat okay shape for training, and taking out your anger on him isn’t exactly conducive to that._

Yes, that’s exactly it. She’s not...not _sparing_ him, or being _merciful._ Just being...practical. Yes. Efficient.

Efficiency is one of the few things the Jedi and the Inquisitorius _do_ agree on, it seems.

* * *

Ezra doesn’t...miss her. Not _exactly._ But he _does_ get very bored and very _sick_ of listening to the darkness around him whispering every time she’s not there. When the Imperial is there, the whispers seem to...not _stop,_ exactly, but they _lessen,_ at the least. And honestly, after having not left this room for who knows how long at this point, he _needs_ them to lessen.

So when she comes in a few days after not coming at all, igniting her lightsaber more for her benefit than his—he hasn’t yet told her that he can make out light and dark, though nothing more—he almost sobs in relief. Without anyone else there, the despair and penetrating _cold_ of the place makes him wish he’d never known the Force.

He doesn’t say any of that to her, however. He’s gone back to his silence after asking several visits ago about Kanan, and though his quiet clearly frustrates her, she hasn’t hurt him yet that he’s aware of. And this time, the Imperial speaks first, anyway, so he’s saved the awkward silence that they fall into so easily now.

“They want to use you as a way to get your master to Turn.” Ezra remains silent, even as he knows the woman’s eyes are on him. He doesn’t move, not even when she takes a step closer and the light from the ‘saber shifts slightly in response.

“Well?” she asks. “What do you think?” He doesn’t respond and she sighs. “Should I tell them to go ahead and start questioning him again?”

“No!” he protests, finally speaking for the first time in days. The woman is silent and he hurriedly continues. “Don’t. Please.”

“Then what’s your alternative?”

He falls silent, heart and mind alike racing. He doesn’t _have_ an alternative. They could torture Ezra himself instead, of course, but the issue is is that he wouldn’t feel it. He wouldn’t know when to tell them to stop. And maybe they’d give up anyway when they realized how useless it was.

His heart thuds in his chest, feeling like a trapped bird slamming its wings against the bars of a cage. _Think, Bridger. Think!_

Maybe….

No. He’s blind. And reckless to the point of stupidity. There’s no way.

But the Imperial _did_ say that the Empire has uses for their kind sometimes. He swallows hard, mind made up.

“What if...what if I let you train me, instead? And you let him go?”

The woman’s surprise is strong enough it ripples in the Force. It takes her a moment to answer.

“And why would that help us more than questioning your master?”

He blinks in surprise. “He’s not my master.”

“But...he _teaches_ you, about the Force, right?”

“He...he said it’d put more of a target on my back to call himself that. He said– Kanan said he was just Kanan, and that I– that I was just Ezra.” He swallows hard, unsure why his rambling is leading him to tears.

“Okay...but that still doesn’t answer my question.”

He sighs inwardly. “Because I’m younger, so I’ll– I’ll last longer. And I learn faster. I’ll learn really fast, I promise. Just...just let him be okay.”

She’s quiet again, and after the silence seems to stretch on for too long, Ezra feels himself shaking. He’s already lost his parents. He can’t lose Kanan now, too.

 _She has to accept your deal. She said the Empire can find a use for you. So_ let them.

“Why do you want to trade yourself so bad?” she asks finally.

_Because I was useless on the streets before Kanan found me. I’m useless without the Force. And if working for the Empire lets me keep that, and keep Kanan alive…._

_I can’t have another death be my fault._

“I want him to be okay,” he says instead.

More silence. The humming of her lightsaber is background noise now, having merged with the dark whispers that this place always fills his head with. He wants her to just _say something,_ to say _anything_ to break the silence, but he knows she won’t. Not until she knows what she’s going to do.

And it’s driving Ezra crazy.

Finally, the woman clears her throat. “I’ll see.”

She turns and starts for the door, and he struggles to his feet. “W– wait.” Her footsteps stop. “Can you...can you tell him I’m okay?”

She hesitates before sighing. “I can’t just _tell him_ that. I need a _reason_ to. Do you have one?”

Ezra wavers before swallowing. “I...I don’t know.”

“When you come up with a reason, then, let me know.”

She leaves before he can say another word.

* * *

Fifteen visits Ezra— _don’t acknowledge his name, he’s just the kid, not Ezra—_ only a few hours later. He looks in her direction in surprise when her lightsaber hisses to life.

“How long has it been?”

“A day or so,” she lies. His brows draw together in confusion and she hears him mutter something to himself before he goes quiet again. She steps closer, watching him carefully. She’ll have to be delicate, here. Avoid any verbal tells.

“I spoke with my master and the Seventh Sister.” She waits for a reaction, but there is none, so she continues. “They said I can train you. _But_ we can’t let Kanan go.”

“Then I won’t let you train me,” he says, and she sees a hint of the child he is deep down as he crosses his arms and pouts.

She can’t help but laugh at the amateur display of defiance. “You don’t have a choice.”

She _wishes_ he did, if she allows herself to admit it. She wants to give him the choice of it, but the reality is that she can’t. And she hates herself all the more for it.

“I won’t touch the Dark Side.”

“See, you say that now, but when people spend a lot of time here…” she trails off and sits on the edge of the steps, lightsaber held loosely in one hand with the one ignited blade pointed at the ground. “They tend to...change their minds.”

“I won’t.”

If Fifteen was still Hera, she would feel _bad_ for him.

But she isn’t Hera, not anymore.

“You will,” she promises.

He shivers, and again a part of her wishes things were different and she was still Hera.

_But you’re not. So stop dwelling on it._

“In exchange for your agreement to training, however, I _can_ inform Kanan of your wellbeing.”

Ezra raises his head. “And...and could you tell him I won’t be trained?”

She thinks it over for a moment. “If that’s what you want,” she answers finally. The boy nods vigorously.

“I don’t– he can’t know. Please. He’ll think I’m gonna Turn even though I won’t Turn and then he’ll be so disappointed in me that he’ll le– leave me alone again—“

_Again?_

Her brow furrows as she cuts him off. “I’ll tell him that you won’t be trained. _If_ you agree to training. Okay?”

He hesitates. Finally, he sighs, head dropping in defeat. “Okay.”

Fifteen smiles and rises, heading up the steps and sheathing her ‘saber as the door opens.

Maybe, if she keeps playing her cards right, she _won’t_ have to hurt the kid.

The door slides shut behind her and as she heads to the training dojo, she pulls out her comm. “I would like to make a request to train the boy, Master.”

She’s in the ‘lift at the end of the detention block before the comm crackles with the Grand Inquisitor’s response. “ _And your reason for doing so?_ ”

“I’ve managed to convince him to allow me to, willingly. And I think we both know that Seven has a...reputation in regards to her prisoners.” The ‘lift heads upward and she waits.

“ _Request granted then, Fifteenth Sister. I expect his training to begin soon._ ”

“Of course, Master.”

Fifteen clicks her comm off, a tired smile slipping onto her face. Good. At least the kid will be safe from Seven, even if Kanan won’t be.

The repulsorlift reaches the level she sent it to and Fifteen steps off, rubbing her eye as she heads toward the dojo. Several other Inquisitors beyond herself, Seven, and their master are still on base, she knows. At this time of day, however, it’s likely that only the Fifth or Eighth Brother will be training. Five tends toward quiet, which works well because she’s not in the mood to talk right now. Eight talks significantly more than she wants to today, but he usually gets the message if someone tells him to shut it.

And of course, it’s just her luck that the only other person inside the dojo when she keys the door open is Seven.

Fifteen considers just closing the door and leaving, but before she’s made up her mind, Seven’s turning away from the pair of training droids she's just defeated to see her. Her lips slide upwards into a smirk.

“Grown bored of the boy?”

Fifteen steps fully into the dojo, door _whooshing_ closed behind her. “ _I’ve_ actually made progress.”

Seven’s brow quirks up. “Oh?”

Fifteen nods, wary as Seven moves toward her with her ‘saber held loosely in her hand. Fifteen moves further into the dojo, too, drawing her own weapon but keeping both blades sheathed.

“ _I’ve_ managed to secure permission to train him.”

Seven’s face twists into a snarl and she lunges at Fifteen without warning. Fifteen steps back and ignites both blades in time to stop Seven from slicing off her _tchun._

“ _You?_ You can hardly recognize a Jedi when you see one,” Seven scoffs, twirling the lightsaber in her hand before igniting the second blade.

“Finding a Jedi was _not_ the objective on Gorse.” The two Inquisitors circle each other, gazes narrowed as each waits for the other to make the next move.

“So kriffing one was?”

The barb takes Fifteen momentarily off guard and her step slows for less than a moment. Seven attacks then, managing to reach Fifteen’s sleeve and singe the fabric. Snarling, Fifteen backs up and out of range, watching Seven even more closely now.

“Kanan and I _never—_ “

“Mhm, of _course_ you didn’t. I saw his memories. I saw the way you two interacted.” Her eyes glitter and Fifteen nearly falters again. “I saw the way he looked at you...actually, the way he _still_ looks at you.”

She _does_ falter this time, and barely recovers in time to keep herself from being impaled on the end of one of Seven’s blades. “He’s a _Jedi,_ ” she spits.

“And you’re an _Inquisitor._ Makes for a rather _tragic_ love story, don’t you think? Though personally, since you’re...preoccupied with the boy, maybe I’ll have to fill that gap for him.” Seven’s brows shoot up at Fifteen’s growl. “Possessive, are we?”

Fifteen strikes first this time. She actually manages to score a hit, too, on the woman’s pauldron. It doesn’t go anywhere, of course, but it still leaves a mark and leaves Seven _seething._

“So tell me, _Fifteenth Sister,_ how _did_ you get a man like that wrapped so tightly around your finger? Did you confess that you were a Jedi, once? Or the opposite?” They’re back to circling each other as Seven glares, gaze dark. “Did he only fall for you further when you told him you killed those he knew? Or was it the first time he saw your headtai—”

Fifteen lunges again, furious now. Her lekku arc toward her back, almost as tightly curled as the day she brought Ezra here. “I do _not_ have any attachment to him,” she snarls as Seven’s blades meet her own. “And to insinuate that he _does_ is merely a further display of your _incompetence_ when it comes to—“

Seven breaks off abruptly, and the momentum Fifteen put behind her strike carries her forward. Before she can stop herself, Seven sends her to her knees with a shove from the Force and kicks her ‘saber out of her hands. Fifteen moves to get up immediately.

And then sees the glow of Seven’s blade at her throat.

“I’d kill you, but I want to see his reaction when I’ve convinced him that you’re a lost cause,” she drawls, blade moving slightly as she motions with her hand. Fifteen holds her breath in a useless attempt to keep away from the heat. “And I want to see _your_ face when he finally gives in to my offers.”

“I have no attachment to him,” Fifteen says slowly.

Seven laughs. “Of course you don’t.”

She holds the blade there another moment before sheathing it, stepping back. Fifteen scrambles to her feet, calling her ‘saber to her hand and igniting it as she turns to Seven. The Mirialan, however, is already nearly at the exit.

“Next time you’d like to spar, just let me know so I can bring him along,” she calls over her shoulder before palming the door open.

Fifteen finds herself unable to move for a few moments even after Seven leaves, the fury still coiling and writhing in her stomach.

 _You’re an Inquisitor. You don’t have_ feelings _for a Jedi,_ or _sympathy for one._

Still, she finds herself doubting.

_And what if you do?_

Fifteen hurries out of the dojo before she can think on the subject further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please keep seven away from both ezra and kanan. that is all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s definitely the darkest so far oops so uhh heed the warnings.
> 
> Prompt fill for “Touch-starved” for Found Family Bingo.
> 
> TW: Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Torture, Torture of a Child, Seven Being Creepy, Mind Invasion (via the Force), Slight Victim Blaming (though not intentionally), Sensory Deprivation of a Child, Child Abuse, Restraint

It’s been three months—he thinks—and Kanan barely remembers himself any longer.

He’s spent nearly the whole time adrift; the last concrete thing he remembers is Seven carving Ezra’s name out from his mind, promising, “You’ll be rewarded for this, pet, don’t worry,” and then leaving.

All he remembers from the next time she visits is pain.

He has vague half-remembrances of hands ghosting across his shoulders, words whispered into his ear about how she would first break him, and then his Padawan.

 _Ezra’s not my Padawan,_ he repeats as his internal mantra. _He’s not my Padawan. He’s not my Padawan._

And then she breaks his mind, too.

“If you give in, it'll be much easier,” she says, voice as soft as the vibroblade hovering just above his arm. He can’t focus, can’t understand what answers she wants from him this time.

Though maybe she _doesn’t_ want any. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Freedom is a burden, Jedi,” she says another time. She’s pacing before him, but his head is lowered; he doesn’t have the strength to lift it. She stops, turning back to him to lift his chin with a smile. “And I’ve released you from it.”

Days pass—at least, he thinks they do. Then it’s weeks. And then months.

He barely speaks anymore. It’s too much effort, and Seven prefers him to be silent unless he’s screaming or whimpering. And he’s had enough of her punishments to know better than to try anything else.

_As long as it keeps her away from Ezra._

She hasn’t tried to dig claws into his mind again in who knows how long. He retreats into the depths of his broken shields to lick his wounds, to hide and watch from a high tower as she hurts a body he hardly recognizes as his any longer.

_As long as it keeps her away from Ezra._

“Do as I say or it will be much worse this time,” he hears her say, as if he’s underwater and she’s far above. He tries to make himself obey...whatever her order is, but he doesn’t have the energy. He never has the energy anymore.

She releases him from the table that day, taking him to the corner and shackling him to the wall. “Be good, pet, or you’ll regret this. After all, you've become _so_ compliant recently, but a little more breaking in never hurt anyone.” He slumps against the wall, exhausted.

And then, one day, Hera visits.

* * *

Fifteen enters the cell silently, turning from the doorway to see a shirtless man shackled in the corner. Frowning, she approaches, crouching and stifling the nausea in her stomach as she recognizes him despite the numerous scars covering his exposed skin.

This is Kanan, all right.

And this is exactly why she didn’t want Seven anywhere near her apprentice.

“Kanan?” she asks softly. His eyes crack open and he stares blankly at her. Swallowing down the nausea still rolling in her stomach, she presses forward and takes a step closer.

“Do you remember Ezra?” No response, though his gaze does seem to narrow slightly. “He’s alive. He’s okay.”

“I don’t believe you,” he finally speaks for the first time, voice rough from the screaming Seven’s no doubt caused over the past several months. Fifteen shrugs, trying to feign nonchalance.

“You can, or you can’t. I don’t really care either way. But I promised him I’d tell you he was okay, so...here I am.”

His gaze hardens. “Just let him go. He’s just...just a kid.”

“If I let him go, he’ll just get recaptured, and the other Inquisitors will _not_ be as merciful as I am. You could at least help him by _trying_ to cooperate with Seven.”

The Jedi snorts, the sound far weaker than she remembers. “I don’t think I have much of a _choice_ at this point.”

Fifteen massages her temples, sighing. Jedi. Always so needlessly stubborn.

Though he _does_ have a point.

“Look, he’s okay. But he wants you to be okay, too. And you can’t be unless you cooperate.”

“Like I said. There’s not- not much I can do to resist.” He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall and sighing. Fifteen frowns, crouching in front of him and trying to ignore the obvious signs of Seven’s abuse.

“He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

He laughs, but the sound is empty. “The kid’s got too big of a heart for this- for this place. For...for her.” He opens his eyes, shooting a wary glance at Fifteen. “Don’t let her ruin that.”

She nods. “She doesn’t have permission to interfere with him.”

“Good.” Kanan tips his head back again and falls silent once more.

Fifteen isn’t sure what to say. She should convince him to Turn, maybe. Or ask about the group that Ezra so vehemently denies the existence of. But she _knows_ there’s no group, and she _knows_ that there’ll be no Turning him if he’s under Seven’s jurisdiction much longer. There won’t be anything _left_ to Turn. So instead she moves to the wall beside him and sits, leaning back against it.

He casts her a glance after a moment. “Aren’t you worried that she’ll come back before you leave? She...she told me she doesn’t like other people...ah, _infringing_ on what’s hers.”

Fifteen shakes her head mutely. “No. She’s offworld, and should be for the next week or so. Chasing rumors of another Jedi.”

He nods slowly, but doesn’t say anything else. Fifteen allows herself to fall back into that strange silence he’s already in.

Her comm beeps after several minutes though and, sighing, she answers. “ _Meet me in my office, Fifteenth Sister,_ ” a cold voice orders.

Swallowing hard, she replies, “Of course, Master,” and it clicks off. She sighs, turning to Kanan and offering an apologetic half-smile. “The...Grand Inquisitor, he—”

“I know,” he interrupts, nodding. “It’s not like I’ll be leaving in the meantime.”

Fifteen offers another half-smile before rising, walking to the door without another word.

* * *

Ezra won’t Turn.

He won’t Turn. He will _not_ Turn.

He keeps those words in his head as Fifteen walks across the room toward him, stopping a foot or two away. He knows what she’s waiting for.

But he won’t do it. Not today. He won’t kneel.

They’re silent for several minutes before she sighs. “Look, you need to at least _act_ the part of an apprentice.”

“I’m not.”

“You agreed to let me train you in exchange for telling Kanan you’re alive and okay. Right?”

He hesitates before nodding slowly. “But you haven’t yet.”

“I just came from his cell. I told him. And he told me to tell you that...that he’s glad you’re okay.” Something about her voice seems off, but he doesn’t have time to figure out why before she’s speaking again. “But you _need_ to cooperate, too. I can’t stop them from taking you and training you with more... _firm_ strategies if you don’t.” He swallows hard at that.

“And how do I know he’s...that you told him I’m okay?”

She hesitates. “You’ll just have to trust me, I guess.”

“But I _don’t._ ”

Fifteen sighs. “Alright, you want proof? We can do that. It will...take a few days, but I might be able to arrange something. But only if you’re willing to train again in exchange.”

He pauses for only a moment before nodding vigorously. “I’ll train. If I can see him, I’ll train. Promise.”

“You’ll train _before_ you can see him, too.”

He hesitates before nodding. “O- okay.”

“Should we pick up where we left off last time? With shielding?” He nods, still reluctant, and refocuses his attention on his mind.

* * *

She’s taking him to Kanan. She’s actually, genuinely taking him to Kanan. He still can hardly believe it, even as he follows her out of his room and down a long, straight corridor. She turns abruptly, and he follows. He’ll do just about anything she asks, as long as he gets to see Kanan.

Fifteen halts and he follows suit after another few turns. He hears a door open and then—

A soft, terrified whimper, one that sounds nothing like Kanan.

“That’s not him.”

“It is,” she says, voice soft. There’s a hand on his arm again and he follows her forward now that the light’s nearly gone, wary. “There’s three steps right there.” He takes them slowly, nearly tripping on the last one; the light in here is horrible for his already lacking depth perception.

“Ah, you brought the boy along this time.”

He doesn’t recognize the voice immediately, though it _does_ sound familiar. Ezra takes an uncertain step closer to Fifteen, silently glad she hasn’t moved.

“He’s here to see the Jedi, per my agreement with our master.”

The other woman makes a noncommittal noise. “Currying favor with him again, I see.”

“Just get out of our way.”

There’s no movement for a long minute before the other woman finally sighs and steps away. Ezra lets Fifteen guide him forward, uncertain he’d be able to keep going on his own otherwise even if he still _had_ his sight.

“Pet, you have a visitor. Get up to say hello _properly._ ” The woman again. Ezra stiffens before he feels Fifteen’s touch on his mind.

 _She’s not talking to you,_ she reassures him. However, the thought does anything but.

He hears a groan before someone shifts, and a chain rattles and scrapes on the floor. “Kid?” a rough voice asks.

_It’s not him it’s not him it’s not him—_

“Kanan?” he whispers.

“Yeah. They...they told me you were okay.” The same chain rattles again and he hears Kanan shifting before he hisses in pain. “C’mere.”

Ezra moves forward hesitantly, and feels a familiar, calloused hand— _Kanan’s hand—_ on his forehead, the same way he’s always confirmed it’s him when Ezra’s woken from a particularly bad night terror. The touch seems to ground them both, and he has to stop from practically leaning into it.

“Do they know?” he whispers into Ezra’s ear. The boy gives his head a minute shake in response. “Good.”

Kanan’s contact on his forehead disappears suddenly, as if yanked back, and Ezra starts forward until a hand on his shoulder stops him. He hears a cry from the man as the chains scrape together again. “Kan—”

“Control your boy,” the other woman snarls, and the hand on his shoulder tightens slightly.

“Put these in your ears,” Fifteen says, voice soft and close. He hesitates. “ _Now._ ”

Swallowing hard, he takes the small, rubbery objects and slips them into his ears. Maybe it’s just something to do with the Force, a new exercise to—

His mind slows to a halt as his hearing vanishes.

“Kanan?” he asks, terror mounting in his chest. “Fif- Master?”

Nothing. He can’t hear _anything._

Just _blank._

Ezra’s never been able to feel pain, but this is certainly the closest he’s come to it.

“Master?!” he calls again, chest heaving. “Master, where—”

A grip on his wrist, carefully tugging him backward. He fights back, trying to go forward and hoping Kanan is still there. The hand only tightens, and suddenly he’s being shoved backward with the Force too.

And then he feels it.

Kanan had described pain to him, once, when he’d asked. He said it felt like the opposite of meditation, like chaos and confusion and hard pressure until you broke.

That’s what Ezra feels now.

Except, it’s not coming from him. It’s coming from...from _Kanan._ Pouring off of him in _waves,_ threatening to overwhelm Ezra if he isn’t careful, and he _needs_ to stop it.

He tries to push forward again, only for another hand, this time pinning his wrists together behind his back, to stop him. He doesn’t recognize who the hand belongs to, and doesn’t bother trying to figure out. He keeps struggling, screaming even though the only confirmation he has for his cries leaving his throat are the faint reverberations in his chest. There’s a slap across his face, but he doesn’t stop fighting. Kanan had always told him he had to be careful of overexerting himself since he couldn’t tell his own limits by sight _or_ by feel, but all coherent thought is now out the window as he keeps fighting to get to Kanan.

* * *

How had this meeting dissolved into chaos so _quickly?_

Fifteen finds herself at the edge of the room, biting her lip silently as she watches Kanan and Ezra fight to get to each other. Ezra’s fighting blind in the literal sense against the Purgetrooper restraining him, and now without being able to hear his cries are _much_ louder than she would have expected. A part of her regrets giving him the earplugs, now.

_That part of you died with Hera Syndulla._

She exhales slowly, forcing her gaze away from her apprentice to the Jedi. Kanan’s not much better, screaming and fighting against a pair of Purgetroopers and the chain still cuffed to his neck. She’s seen him fight before, of course, years ago on Gorse. But his rage _now…._ This is a ferocity she almost didn’t think he was capable of. And Seven’s tearing at his shields only seconds before certainly haven’t helped matters.

There’s a hum, somehow still audible over the shouts, and she turns slightly to see Seven step up next to her. “I’ve made him scream before, but never like _this._ Maybe your boy will need to come back here more often.”

“He won’t.”

Seven shrugs, her voice a lazy drawl when she continues a moment later. “In fact, if you ever wanted to _trade..._ how’s the boy?”

Fifteen stiffens. “What?”

“You know, your _own_ little _pet._ How’s _he_ when you’ve got him be—”

Fifteen has her ‘saber drawn and pressed to Seven’s throat before she can continue. “Unlike _you,_ I prefer _not_ to waste my time toying with prisoners.”

“It’s not a waste of time if you get a good run out of it,” she says with a smirk. Fifteen seethes.

“The boy is being _trained._ He is a _child,_ and he is _not_ a ‘pet,’ despite what you claim. He’ll actually be _productive._ ” Seven shrugs, still smirking when Fifteen sheathes her ‘saber several seconds later.

“You may yet change your mind.”

In front of them, the Jedi and the boy are still screaming, still fighting back against those restraining them. Kanan’s nearly exhausted now, she can tell; his struggles are getting weaker by the moment. Fifteen can sense the pain from his shields emanating in the Force, too, splashing out like a stone heaved into the middle of a lake. The Purgetrooper holding Ezra shifts his grip, tightening his hold on Ezra’s wrists as he drags him up the steps and to the door. Fifteen can only watch in suppressed sympathy.

“Tell me, how _did_ you train him so well? He’s reliant on you, and seems to _enjoy_ it. If _he,_ ” at this Seven, nods to Kanan, “enjoys it, he doesn’t show it.”

 _I didn’t kriffing_ touch him _like_ you _do. I treated him as a living being. With common decency._

Instead of replying with any of those, Fifteen opts to remain quiet.

“If you’d rather not share your secrets, Sister, that’s fine with me,” she drawls after a moment. “Though _do_ let me know if you ever want to trade.”

“I don’t.”

Seven shrugs, smiling. “Suit yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to see to my own _project._ ” Fifteen takes the hint and nods, starting for the door. As she reaches the steps, however, a voice stops her in her tracks.

“...Hera...Hera, tell him—”

“What?” she asks without turning. The Purgetroopers have released him now and she motions them past her to the exit.

“Tell him I’m...tell him I’m okay.”

“Don’t want to speak _too_ quickly, dearest, do you?” a quiet voice croons, and she can _feel_ Kanan’s shudder in the Force. “After all, you don’t want her making false promises to your little Padawan, do you?”

He swallows audibly, and Fifteen can hear Seven approaching him and crouching. Swallowing hard, Fifteen leaves without answering him.

She reaches Ezra’s cell only a few minutes later, steeling herself before entering. Surprisingly, the kid is...asleep. He’s slumped into the far corner, curled into himself and whimpering quietly as he stirs every few seconds. Fifteen allows a tired smile to slip onto her face before she leaves him alone again.

As she walks to the repulsorlift to head back to the barracks, her comm chirps. “ _Fifteenth Sister. I received a rather concerning report from the Seventh Sister._ ” Her steps falter just as she reaches at the end of the hall and she waits a moment before answering.

“Yes, Master?”

She enters the ‘lift as the doors open, punching in her level without a second thought. The Grand Inquisitor’s tone is as neutral as always, and to her frustration she can’t tell his emotions from it. “ _She informed me that the boy’s training is going slowly, and that you are reticent to allow her to offer her suggestions._ ”

“I think we both know what her suggestions would consist of.”

The ‘lift goes up slowly, _too_ slowly in her opinion. “ _Regardless, if he has not made significant progress in a month, I will be reconsidering his assignment to you. Is that clear?_ ”

She swallows hard before nodding. “Yes, Master.”

The comm clicks off and Fifteen finds herself staring blankly at the doors of the ‘lift.

_One month._

_One month to break and then remold a child._

The part of her that’s still Hera Syndulla, still a Jedi, sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of y'all who stuck with me through this angst-ridden journey! This isn't the last we'll see of this gang though, don't worry; there's definitely more angst in store : )


End file.
